But he doesn’t say anything and just gives me another nod. “Good night, Autumn.”

I shut the door and get out of my clothes before hiding under the covers. Meanwhile, my thoughts battle each other.

Did Lukas send Gavin?

No, he didn’t. Are you so stupid to even think he’d do that? Lukas is a guy who saves lives; he doesn’t have time to worry about my dinner and breakfast.

But he cares. I know.

When I think my head will explode, I grab my phone and check the to-do list for the wedding.

After another thirty minutes of checking and rechecking that everything is going per plan, I close the planning app.

My hands shake at the sight of the photo on my phone screen. Lukas took it a few days back. I’m standing on the step ladder with a bulb in my hand.

Chiara, Mr. Big, Lukas, and I were sitting in the garden after the last guests were gone, and one of the bulbs from our string lights went out. While he and Mr. Big left to get the ladder and bulb, Chiara challenged me.

“If you can change the bulb, I’ll no longer make fun of your idea about the heart cutout with Maddy’s picture on each table.”

“It’s cute.” I defend the idea she’s been mocking for three days.

“It’s too cheesy and corny, like you and Mr. Daredevil over there.” She cocks her head toward Lukas, approaching us. He has a ladder in one hand as his muscles bunch under the weight.

“It’s perfect and you won’t mock it again because I’m going to change that bulb right now.” How tough can it be?

But boy, was I wrong. It isn’t something you figure out by standing up on the ladder.

“Just look how it’s tightened, Autumn,” Mr. Big says as I stare at the fused lamp like it’ll somehow speak to me and guide me how to replace it.

I’m about to give in when a flash hits my face. I turn around to find Lukas with his phone pointed toward me.

I give him a light shrug, but then he curls the fingers of his free hand and does a clockwise motion a few times. I don’t understand what he’s doing. For a second, I think he’s trying to tell me my boobs look sexy, and he’d like to give them a squeeze.

Until I realize he’s helping me. I hold the bulb and try to rotate it.

It turns, then loosens and comes off.

“I got it!” I squeal and following Lukas’ instructions place a new bulb.

When Mr. Big turns on the lights again, I smile like I’ve climbed Mt. Everest and not just changed a teeny tiny light bulb.

“I did it,” I tell Chiara.